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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28923957">The Devil in the Details</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/madd47/pseuds/madd47'>madd47</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Critical Role (Web Series)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 13:07:01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,133</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28923957</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/madd47/pseuds/madd47</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>After a tense interaction with the Mighty Nein, Jester tries to defuse tensions with the Tomb Takers, and Lucien decides to entertain her.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>33</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Devil in the Details</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>hello! spoilers c2e121-122. i started writing this literally the evening of 121, forgot about it for a week, and then finished it after episode 122.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Also, I do tarot card readings. That could be fun!”</p>
<p>The blue one springs out from the snow like a sickeningly sweet cobalt frost worm. While the scrawny one and the angry one look on in slight surprise, Lucien’s expression unscrews from the depths of thought to a wary intrigue, and he gestures towards her, presenting her as an example.</p>
<p>“See now, <em> that’s </em> a nice offer!” She wasn’t snubbing her benefactors of a comfortable evening or making demands to see things <em> far </em> above her pay grade; she is making the effort. Lucien likes that. Besides, he can’t resist a bit of free entertainment from the blue one, who seems to be a walking fountain of it.</p>
<p>“Do you want me to read your... tarot cards?” The way she perks is adorable, he has to admit. It’s not too dissimilar to seeing a puppy rush towards its owner or a baby finding its favorite toy. His lips curl, and a devilish smile comes upon his violet visage out of habit alone.</p>
<p>“Certainly,” he says, relaxing back into the spot he has perched in.</p>
<p>“Really?” The smile that comes could be seen as heartwarming; it’s no wonder, he notes, that they all seem so fond of her. She balances out the grumpy one, and grumpy people... <em> ah, nevermind. </em> Quickly, her expression simmers down to a teasing expression he had come to gently despise. “You know, I learned this from Molly. Does that change your opinion of it?”</p>
<p>Very little, Lucien likes to believe, manages to get under his skin. Ever since he had come face-to-face – or, more correctly, mind-to-mind – with the Somnovem and had his spirit fractured by a rude interloper, he thinks he’s developed a greater resistance to bullshit trying to get to him. That’s usually true, but hearing its name circumvents his best attempts. He feels his lips drift down a little before he quickly adjusts, tugging them back up into that charming smile. Or, at least, an attempt at it.</p>
<p>“No, I’m just curious,” he manages out with a small shrug.</p>
<p>“Okay! Oh, well... then sit down with me!” It’s clear that the other tiefling wants him to follow her, so he does. He pushes up to his feet with only the slightest protest from his tired muscles and feels the snow crunch beneath the heels of his boots. One of his eyes – Tyffial’s – spots the wizard snatching the confused monk’s wrist once again. He understands there’s no trust in them, but that doesn’t matter. They have to trust each other.</p>
<p>When Jester takes her seat a small distance from the fire, Lucien sits with her. It’s awkward taking his seat – his swords clatter and jab into his sides for a moment – but he takes it with grace. While the cleric works through her bag, Lucien takes a moment to enjoy the crisp air and look at, truly look at the person in front of him. She’s certainly a unique one. It’d be a shame if he had to kill her; destiny calls.</p>
<p>It’s hardly a moment into his internal philosophizing – which occurs more than you might think – that she emerges with a fist full of cards and a glimmer in her eye. It takes her a moment to fan the cards in a way that she is satisfied with, but once she has it right, she gives him a simple instruction:</p>
<p>“Choose...” She blows a raspberry as she stares down at the stack, her shoulders rising in an uncertain shrug, “three cards?” His head cocks to the side, the corner of his lips rising in an entertained smirk before looking down to the cards. She must be some oracle if she has that much confidence in her abilities, but that is neither here nor there.</p>
<p>“Set them in order,” she says as he plucks three cards – each between violet thumb and forefinger – from the stack and lays them on the ground before one another. When he looks up at her, she seems to be in almost a monastic state of focus. Some corner of his mind wonders if it taught her this trade well or if she was making it up as she went.</p>
<p>The card backs are violet with gold and white detailing. He can tell from the edges, corners, and creases that these have seen some travel, some weather, and quite the variety of terrain. In fact, for a moment he swears he sees blood on one of them. He glimpses the underside of one as Jester sets the deck down; he thinks he recognizes the Moonweaver’s relative style, but it’s all esoteric to him. Curious from a distance, he is. His brow twitches as he examines them.</p>
<p>“Okay, so,” from where her hands were clasped over her chest, they fall; her right one makes the motion of turning over. “Flip over the first card.” With a slightly cocked brow, Lucien reaches down and takes the leftmost card back into his fingers and turns it over.</p>
<p>“This is the card of your past,” she says before looking down. He doesn’t immediately recognize the design, but she seems to, as her expression quickly begins to light up. He thinks he sees... buildings? “This card... oh, it’s so weird.”</p>
<p>“This card is History and the Dream.” His brows rise, uncertain but at least feigning intrigue. It’s then she leans in <em> very </em> close, laughing lightly. He isn’t against invading personal space, but this is a little much. “How fucking crazy is that? Ah, oh my God.” He smiles again, his upper face betraying the discontent he is currently feeling. Eyes unblinking.</p>
<p>“Woah... a massive creature shatters a city...” She looks down from where she is leaning, her hands coming up to support the card from her end. Then, she leans back with an accomplished grin, her blue hands coming up in a victorious gesture. “Shut up, that’s so fucking perfect, whaaaat?” He feels his patience – like a piece of dough under a roller – slowly being drawn thinner and thinner. Still, he smiles and fakes the appearance of interest for cordiality sake. He feels his teeth clench just a little. He breaks her gaze, looking down at the card once more and now starting to recognize it.</p>
<p>Well, <em> he </em> doesn’t recognize it, but one of his chorus does. That image is the image of the Calamity. The artistry is well done when the eye is guided to the meaning. Personally, the color choice isn’t his favorite.</p>
<p>“Okay, flip the next card!” Jester’s excitement is palpable as Lucien lays the first card face-up on the bit of earth at the edge of the encampment. He brings the same hand down, takes the card up, and expertly turns it between two fingers.</p>
<p>“This... this card... oh, this is your present,” Even in the dim light, this image is far better to recognize. He sees two dragons engaged in a duel, circling one another in a kind of battle fit for a child’s bedtime story. The one closest to him is unmistakably a red dragon, and beneath it, in gold script, are words that make him squint suspiciously at the card.</p>
<p>“The Tyrant,” Jester says the words he reads aloud. She doesn’t offer any interpretation on this one; he figures it is because it is obvious enough what it means. <em> Is she playing me? </em> With a similar power to the one that canceled their attempted flight and the wizard’s home, he feels outward for any magic. No funny business, surprisingly.</p>
<p>She ushers him to flip his last card in the same tone she adopted when they first began – soft, mystical, strange and unusual for her, he feels. Lucien repeats the motion of setting the card down, reaching over to the next card, and lifting it. As their eyes hold one another, red on red, she tells him that this card is his future. Without breaking from her, he turns the card over. Her eyes turn down, and a hand rises to go over her lips in surprise.</p>
<p>“Oh, wow... this card is so important. This is the card...” Whatever she says next is lost to the wind as Lucien’s eyes turn down to the card in his fingers and he beholds the word <em> DEATH </em>. Whatever entertained or interested inclinations his features held before is immediately gone. Jester must sense this, as she quickly goes to fix the matter. “It’s not necessarily a bad thing, Lucien,” she says, bringing a hand forward to try to de-escalate the tension in his eyes. “Some people think death means a rebirth,” a wistful expression toys at her lips. “Something must end for something new to begin.”</p>
<p>He feels it. Her voice, those words, and this card make something in him rise, and he squashes it like the bug it is. His right hand twitches once, then again; he nearly crushes the card between his fingers out of frustration, but he recalls just where he is. He relaxes and casually lays the card with its siblings. She asks how he feels.</p>
<p>“Thank you, that was interesting,” he says, almost rushed. “Always been oddly curious at a distance about such strange, ah... <em> hobbies. </em>” He finds he can’t maintain a smile as a pile of coils sear in his chest. The chorus of voices he is used to have fallen silent, and he is now left with it rearing its ugly head. “Thank you for indulging with the offer.”</p>
<p>Before Jester even shuffles the cards back in, he’s already pushing himself up. He can feel and <em> see </em> the members of the Nein watching him as he moves to get away from that as if the distance will make the writhing worm still. The smile he has been fighting to maintain that entire time drops, and he scowls at nothing, seen by none.</p>
<p>Lucien drops down in the snow a short distance from the others, swords digging into the snow as he burrows into his coat. His infernal blood can’t keep him heated enough in this cold weather like the blue one, and the eyes are only so warm to the touch.</p>
<p>Lucien has long since shed the persona of the shaking initiate before the altar. There are no crises of faith anymore, nor does he feel helpless in the eyes of the Somnovem. He has had the dreams before – the great, piercing red eyes, the cacophony of voices, the ultimate feeling of vulnerability before something far greater. They aren’t going to shake his faith any time soon.</p>
<p>Lucien feels <em> frustration. </em> Against every instinct that he possesses, he entertains these people who, if he put faith in any of the traditional divinities, are ordained to annoy him. Constant reminders of <em> it </em>, prodding and poking, and testing every ounce of patience he has. He is half-ready to snap, to lose his patience, and to give them a glimpse of the true power that the Somnovem have to offer.</p>
<p>Something flares on his neck; a subtle burning fills Lucien in a familiar sensation. He takes a slow, calming breath. The Somnovem do not speak to him in words, but he has learned to become fluent in the ways that they come to him. His mind is the beach, and the tide rolls in slowly.</p>
<p><em> Ah, yes, that’ll work nicely. </em> His lips curl into a smirk that none others can see but Lucien. They want to know about the secrets of the Nine? Lucien would be happy to show them. He feels where it is tucked within his jacket and feels another eye – atop his hand – pulse in response. <em> Well, if you insist. </em></p>
<p>Night falls, all goes silent. While his Tomb Takers rest, Lucien remains awake with a smug confidence in his new plan. He remembers sleep and its saccharine embrace from his youthful days in Shadycreek. He’s grown beyond that now; a higher purpose calls, and Lucien answers. No longer does he feel so <em> empty. </em></p>
<p>That word makes him sneer at nothing. He doesn’t care if the Nein – huddled in their muddy dome – sees him. That word is <em> vile </em>. Anger rises for a moment, but that calm wave rolls over the sands of thought once more. Serenity.</p>
<p>He has found peace from the ignorant life he was cursed with. He has found community in the voices of the City. Lucien feels their guidance, their <em> pull </em>, and welcomes it. Once upon a time, he was somehow scared of it. No longer is he that child. He hated that person. Weak, lost, cowering among the sheep. Now, he is who he truly was meant to be. This is his destiny.</p>
<p>Lucien looks up towards the night sky. Everyone else is asleep or chasing mammoths. He can spend some time dreaming. Lucien reclines back in his seat and smiles defiantly and confidently into the unending void.</p>
<p>
  <i>Eyes never shut.</i>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>lucien! gotta love him. he's probably one of the more charming baddies we've had for a while. if it isn't obvious i miss molly too :( anyways! i might write more as time goes on. thanks for the read!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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